01 / Peckham, London
Almond Yard
A tiled shopfront becomes a neighbourhood kitchen, with a shared table where the counter used to be and a courtyard open for Sunday lunch.
| Existing area | 128 m² |
|---|---|
| Added area | 24 m² |
| Structure kept | 86% |
| On site | 26 weeks |
Regular
Italic
400
Medium
Italic
500
Bold
Italic
700
Heavy
Italic
800
Extra Black
Italic
900
Fivo Sans Modern emerged from a deliberate subversion of typographic utility: turning a hidden optical defense mechanism into an overt graphic statement. Released in 2017 by designer Alexander Slobzheninov, the face was drawn as the display counterpart to his Swiss-inspired neo-grotesque, Fivo Sans. Where the primary family aimed for the tidy, neutral discipline of the International Typographic Style, Fivo Sans Modern strips away that polite reserve. It takes the rational bones of the mid-century grotesque and recalibrates them for the high-contrast demands of contemporary posters, mastheads, and screen headlines.
Anatomically, the design is governed by deep, deeply cut ink traps. Historically engineered for extreme conditions—most famously in telephone directories and high-speed newsprint, where punchcutters and phototype designers carved voids into stroke junctions to swallow capillary ink bleed—such notches were never intended to be seen. Slobzheninov reverses that logic entirely. At display scales, these empty wedges do not disappear into pooled ink; instead, they function as stark incisions of negative space. In letters like M, W, A, and the shoulders of n and r, these angular bites carve into the heavy stems, catching ambient light and injecting rhythmic friction into what would otherwise be monolithic walls of black.
The family spans five weights ranging from Regular to Extra Black, paired with matching obliques. As the weight increases toward the dense mass of the Heavy and Extra Black cuts, the ink traps bite even deeper into the joints, lending the alphabet a chiseled, architectural presence. Posters, editorial banners, packaging, and prominent web headings give these details room to become part of the graphic composition.
Regular · 400
Regular Italic · 400
Medium · 500
Medium Italic · 500
Bold · 700
Bold Italic · 700
Heavy · 800
Heavy Italic · 800
Extra Black · 900
Extra Black Italic · 900
Reframe.
We give empty shops, tired offices, and forgotten warehouses a reason to open their doors again.
01 / Peckham, London
A tiled shopfront becomes a neighbourhood kitchen, with a shared table where the counter used to be and a courtyard open for Sunday lunch.
| Existing area | 128 m² |
|---|---|
| Added area | 24 m² |
| Structure kept | 86% |
| On site | 26 weeks |
02 / Kelham Island, Sheffield
A former cutlery workshop makes room for a ceramicist, a frame maker, and a bicycle repair shop. New partitions stop below the original roof trusses.
| Existing area | 640 m² |
|---|---|
| Added area | 48 m² |
| Structure kept | 94% |
| On site | 38 weeks |
03 / Stokes Croft, Bristol
Two empty floors above a corner shop become six compact homes. A new stair brings daylight into the centre; the shop keeps trading throughout.
| Existing area | 312 m² |
|---|---|
| Added area | 0 m² |
| Structure kept | 91% |
| On site | 32 weeks |
04 / Cliftonville, Margate
An empty cinema finds its second act as a rehearsal room and evening venue. The curved balcony remains, along with the ticket window on the street.
| Existing area | 875 m² |
|---|---|
| Added area | 36 m² |
| Structure kept | 97% |
| On site | 44 weeks |
With matted beard, and swathed in a bristling shark-skin apron, about mid-day, Perth was standing between his forge and anvil, the latter placed upon an iron-wood log, with one hand holding a pike-head in the coals, and with the other at his forge’s lungs, when Captain Ahab came along, carrying in his hand a small rusty-looking leathern bag. While yet a little distance from the forge, moody Ahab paused; till at last, Perth, withdrawing his iron from the fire, began hammering it upon the anvil—the red mass sending off the sparks in thick hovering flights, some of which flew close to Ahab. “Are these thy Mother Carey’s chickens, Perth? they are always flying in thy wake; birds of good omen, too, but not to all;—look here, they burn; but thou—thou liv’st among them without a scorch.” “Because I am scorched all over, Captain Ahab,” answered Perth, resting for a moment on his hammer; “I am past scorching; not easily can’st thou scorch a scar.” “Well, well; no more. Thy shrunk voice sounds too calmly, sanely woeful to me. In no Paradise myself, I am impatient of all misery in others that is not mad. Thou should’st go mad, blacksmith; say, why dost thou not go mad? How can’st thou endure without being mad? Do the heavens yet hate thee, that thou can’st not go mad?—What wert thou making there?”
With matted beard, and swathed in a bristling shark-skin apron, about mid-day, Perth was standing between his forge and anvil, the latter placed upon an iron-wood log, with one hand holding a pike-head in the coals, and with the other at his forge’s lungs, when Captain Ahab came along, carrying in his hand a small rusty-looking leathern bag. While yet a little distance from the forge, moody Ahab paused; till at last, Perth, withdrawing his iron from the fire, began hammering it upon the anvil—the red mass sending off the sparks in thick hovering flights, some of which flew close to Ahab. “Are these thy Mother Carey’s chickens, Perth? they are always flying in thy wake; birds of good omen, too, but not to all;—look here, they burn; but thou—thou liv’st among them without a scorch.” “Because I am scorched all over, Captain Ahab,” answered Perth, resting for a moment on his hammer; “I am past scorching; not easily can’st thou scorch a scar.” “Well, well; no more. Thy shrunk voice sounds too calmly, sanely woeful to me. In no Paradise myself, I am impatient of all misery in others that is not mad. Thou should’st go mad, blacksmith; say, why dost thou not go mad? How can’st thou endure without being mad? Do the heavens yet hate thee, that thou can’st not go mad?—What wert thou making there?”
With matted beard, and swathed in a bristling shark-skin apron, about mid-day, Perth was standing between his forge and anvil, the latter placed upon an iron-wood log, with one hand holding a pike-head in the coals, and with the other at his forge’s lungs, when Captain Ahab came along, carrying in his hand a small rusty-looking leathern bag. While yet a little distance from the forge, moody Ahab paused; till at last, Perth, withdrawing his iron from the fire, began hammering it upon the anvil—the red mass sending off the sparks in thick hovering flights, some of which flew close to Ahab. “Are these thy Mother Carey’s chickens, Perth? they are always flying in thy wake; birds of good omen, too, but not to all;—look here, they burn; but thou—thou liv’st among them without a scorch.” “Because I am scorched all over, Captain Ahab,” answered Perth, resting for a moment on his hammer; “I am past scorching; not easily can’st thou scorch a scar.” “Well, well; no more. Thy shrunk voice sounds too calmly, sanely woeful to me. In no Paradise myself, I am impatient of all misery in others that is not mad. Thou should’st go mad, blacksmith; say, why dost thou not go mad? How can’st thou endure without being mad? Do the heavens yet hate thee, that thou can’st not go mad?—What wert thou making there?”
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